Living With It
by Marika Webster
Summary: Someone is suffering from a terminal illness, who? Read and find out. NOT a deathfic, and actually pretty light reading.


A/N This is a present for Tensei, just cause I can. The inspiration for this came from a friend of mine in college, he'd had AIDS for 14 years. 

  
  


Disclaimer: Not mine... The song is "That I would be good" by Alanis Morisette.

  
  


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Living With It

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That I would be good even if I did nothing 

That I would be good even if I got the thumbs down 

  
  


In every relationship there comes a time when you must lay all the cards on the table. When lies stack upon lies and all you have left is the dust of what was once the truth. I suppose I knew the time was coming. I knew it long ago. She lied to me, betrayed me, yet I still can not find it within myself to hate her. I can not find it within me to hate anyone save myself. The sad part is, I only realize this now as I sit here in the horrid little room. I'm waiting for the doctor now, waiting for him to arrive and tell me exactly what the prognosis is. I already know the truth. I can still remember his words, they ring in my head with a clarity such as I have never known. "It can be many years before the symptoms begin to show themselves. Your quality of life does not have to change."

  
  


That I would be good if I got and stayed sick 

That I would be good even if I gained ten pounds 

  
  


I never would have caught her... I would have continued to look the other way were I not blinded by my love for her. Love is blind. Or perhaps not blind. Maybe love is actually a mirror that is held up in front of you by fate, showing all your faults magnified. And maybe we don't like what we see in that mirror so we close our eyes and refuse to see the truth. Yeah, I like that much better, love is a mirror. And Fate's a bitch. I never would have known I was the bearer of this illness. I don't even remember what was my wake-up call, her coming to me with a somber expression to tell me I needed to see a doctor. Or the fact that she told me the Trowa wasn't fine. That he hadn't been for a long time. 

  
  


That I would be fine even if I went bankrupt 

That I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth 

  
  


At first I wondered what Trowa's mystery illness could possibly have to do with me and Dorothy. I wondered at the irony of it. Then as the reality of the situation sank in, I laughed. The entire situation was so ridiculous that it could not possibly be happening to me. Not me, not Quatre Raberba Winner, the golden boy. The heir to the biggest fortune in the world. Everyone's hero, the epitome of perfection. Me... the golden boy... was dying of the only disease that modern science had failed to eradicate. I was dying of AIDS. Trowa's in the hospital now. I almost forgot to mention that. He's only got a little time left, the last bout of pneumonia really took it out of him. I can't hate him either. I went to see him last night before during visiting hours. I guess his timetable is a little more tight than mine. I suppose he's paying the price for his actions now. But even he does not deserve such a high penalty for betrayal. His guilt was enough for me. 

  
  


That I would be great if I was no longer queen 

That I would be grand if I was not all knowing 

  
  


I bear no malice to anyone, I know it's redundant because I said it before, but it's true. I am sad, yes. Sad to know that I will not be remembered as I am now. Vibrant, lively, strong and healthy. It makes me a little uneasy when I think that my end will come as Trowa's is now. That I will end up in a hospital room somewhere with only my own thoughts and regrets for company. Dorothy is dead. She went home after telling me that day. Put a bullet through her head. Pity, she had such a spark. I guess there are some things that even psychotherapy can't help with. 

  
  


That I would be loved even when I numb myself 

That I would be good even when I am overwhelmed 

  
  


The Perfect Soldier, that's what we called Heero during the war. It's really actually funny when I think of it now, he was the least perfect of all of us. It's been15 years now, he's happily married. To Hilde of all people. Now there's an odd couple. It was sort of surprising when we began pairing off. Duo with Sally, Wufei with Relena. Trowa was the only one of us that never married. In retrospect it makes sense. The clock hand's aren't moving. Dammit! Why won't you just TICK already. I can't hold in a sigh as I begin to jiggle my legs. It's a nervous habit that I've never fully been able to break myself of. I hate that I always end up feeling out of place no matter the situation. 

  
  


That I would be loved even when I was fuming 

That I would be good even if I was clingy 

  
  


Well, I'm alive. That's the official prognosis. Apparently everything looks good, for now. I've bought myself a little more time. My doctor says it astonishes him that I'm so healthy given the disease I'm supposed to be dying from. Supposed to be, that's the thing. I've been living with this for 10 years now. I've never had any problems, odd really. I'm supposed to be suffering from this untreatable killer and yet I feel fine. Aside from the regimen of pills I take religiously, I could pass for any healthy 30 year-old walking down the street. I'm supposedly dying, right?

  
  


That I would be good even if I lost sanity 

That I would be good whether with or without you 

  
  


I can't say that I haven't learned anything. I can't even begin to claim that life lessons have escaped me. I've learned that I'm stronger than I look, not just physically, but in other ways. The doctor's speaking to me and I have to force myself to listen. I do that a lot, zone out into my own little world. But that's okay. I may as well use the time I have left, no matter how little it may be to do as I wish. And right now, I'm thinking... double big mac, extra large fries, and a chocolate milkshake. How am I feeling, he wants to know. I can't help myself but to grin. "I'm just fine. I'm living." And that's exactly what I'm doing. I have AIDS, and I'm not dying from it. I'm living with it. 


End file.
